Nightmares and Fantasies
by The Duckster
Summary: Missing Moment. While at Grimmauld place Hermione has a night mare and she asks Ron to sleep with her so she's not scared. They spend the next hour silently enjoying the feel of being together. R/Hr.


**Title:** Nightmares and Fantasies

**Fandom:** Harry Potter

**Characters:** Ron and Hermione

**Prompt:** 12 - Orange

**Word Count:** 3909

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Missing Moment. While at Grimmauld place Hermione has a night mare and she asks Ron to sleep with her so she's not scared.

**Author's Notes:** yeah, not much to say here, just please review!!! I love reviews they make me happy. Tell me what you did and didn't like, if anything felt ooc ya know that sort of thing.

Nightmares and Fantasies

It took a moment for the loud mutterings to rouse Ron from his sleep. The room was dark with the faint glow coming from the window casting dim light over the room. For a moment he wasn't sure what had woken him but then he heard it again. There was a moaning coming from the next bed and for a second he'd been woken up by the sounds of Hermione having one of _those_ dreams. _'Sweet Merlin yes' _but then a muttered "No, please no!" punctuated the room and he knew it she was not enjoying herself.

"Hermione," he called loudly. No answer besides her continued plea to stop. "Hermione wake up!" He was getting worried, he didn't enjoy listening to her distressed like this. When she didn't respond again he got up and crossed the room. He sat on the edge of her bed and shook her shoulders gruffly to rouse her from her nightmare. "Wake up Hermione." She awoke with a start and immediately began to struggle beneath his grip.

"Stop it, please stop hurting him!" She said loudly as her body fought beneath him.

"Hermione, it's me! Don't worry no one's getting hurt, it's me Hermione, it's me." She stopped stuggling and looked at him, relief washed over her face and she went from fighting him off to clinging to him.

"Oh Ron, it was just so real." A deep sob ripped through the air and she gripped his outstretched arms more tightly. He wrapped his long arms around her, hugging her tightly to him. Feeling bold enough to do so only by having studied the entire chapter in _'Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches'_ detailing what to do when a girl is crying. She buried her face into him and he could feel her wet cheeks on his bare chest.

He held her tightly rocking slightly whispering softly that she was safe and he would let anyone hurt her. He had no way of knowing how long he held her. He did his best to memorize the feel of her warm skin beneath him. Never before had he held her like this, it felt so intimate. He could feel her relax in his arms and his chest swelled with pride that he could calm her like that. She stilled and after another long moment he thought perhaps she'd fallen back to sleep. He loosened his hold on her and began shifting away. As he did so her grip on him instantly tightened.

"Please, don't go," she pleaded softly into his shoulder. He grinned at her request.

"As you wish." He grinned as he remembered the muggle film she insisted he watch with her. The hero always responding to his beloveds request with a simple 'As you wish'. He moved his legs off the bed to adjust from them from the seating position which had grown quite uncomfortable with his body folded in half to hold her. As he did so he was surprised she lifted the blanket, beaconing him to join her beneath them. He'd expected to lay on top and his body exposed to the morning chill that would drift in open window over the next few hours.

He slipped into the warm cocoon her body and the bedding provided him. He was unsure of everything now. No part of his book covered where to put your hands in a situation like this. As he laid down beside her she instantly snuggled close to his chest. Both of them on their side facing towards each other. He slipped his arm beneath her pillow. The arm she lay on curled tightly between them and her other hand was laying palm side up against his chest.

He tried hard to repress the responses happening within his body. Shifting his hips away from her slightly so as to avoid pressing his now growing length against her. He hesitated for a moment before wrapping his free arm around her. He allowed himself to look at her now. The filtered moonlight exposing the faint freckles on her neck visible through the large opening of her shirt. Wait a moment, not her shirt, _his_ shirt. The same Chudley Canon's shirt that had gone missing the previous summer. His insides warmed and he could feel the blood rushing into his groin, thickening it with his growing desire.

He found it incredibly alluring that he was laying in her bed as she nestled closely to him clad only one of his shirts. He was literally all over her body and he loved it. He splayed his hand onto her back, rubbing her softly.

She let out a contented hum. _'Does she know what she's doing to me right now?'_ He thought. Knowing he wasn't likely to get any sleep that night.

***

She'd asked him to stay before her brain had processed any fear or hesitation. She was now encircled in his embrace upon her own request. She was relieved when he'd responded so quickly in agreement. _'As you wish.' _She instantly knew the reference. He'd come to pick her up for the summer, offering support while sending her parents off to Australia. They'd had to remain in her disillusioned bedroom while her parents left and "The Princess Bride" was the only movie in her room at the time. He'd been fascinated by the telly and had a hundred different questions about it. They'd been laying side by side on her bed not touching while the movie played, his attention enraptured by the story. She'd seen it dozens of times before and had found it more interesting to watch his reactions to the movie than watching the film itself. She smiled at the memory and wondered if he recalled that Wesley had meant _'I love you'_ every time he'd told Buttercup_ 'As you wish.'_

"Thank you," she whispered softly into his chest. It was so much easier to force out the image of him writhing on the floor, tortured and hurt when his smooth skin was still beneath her touch. His large hand rubbed wide circles onto her back in a way she assumed was meant to lull her back to sleep. It did anything but calm her. Instead is awakened her more. His touch, even through fabric, was electrifying. She grinned as she recalled the particular fabric separating them. She'd been charged with sorting the laundry by Mrs. Weasley the summer before their sixth year.

The obscenely bright colored quidditch shirt was faded and thread bare. He'd worn it for the previous days heavy manual labor that was required in getting your choirs done without magic. It had pulled across his chest in muscles he probably hadn't noticed he'd developed. It was tinged with sweat and dirt and she remembered watching him through the kitchen window, envisioning laying down with him in the long grassy meadow and slowly removing the soiled garment. It had just been too tempting, too easy to place the freshly laundered shirt into her own basket instead of Ron's.

She'd been embarrassed that Molly had kept sorting it into her basket after that because she wasn't sure if it was purposeful or just the charm she used to sort the laundry. She'd taken to sleeping in ever since.

Ginny teased her about it the first time she saw her in it but she was long used to Ginny's playful ribbing regarding Hermione's feelings toward her brother. He'd caught her in it once, in the middle of the night on a trip to the loo. It had been hot that night too and like tonight she hadn't worn it without pajama bottoms. She had blushed as his eyes lingered over her exposed thighs and protruding nipples. He hadn't said anything about it then or since and so she'd kept using it.

She was brought back to the present with a fingertip grazing her exposed skin. Her shirt had gathered around her waist in her sleep and his massaging hand had slipped beneath the bunched hem. She shivered as the contact sent goose bumps down her body and his hand froze at her movement, she could feel two fingertips still resting on her skin. _'Don't stop!' _her mind screamed in exasperation.

She let out a tiny and involuntary grunt of annoyance. The small of her back where his skin still touched her felt like it was on fire at his contact. She moved her palm down his chest slightly curling her fingers around the fine hair. She prayed her this would encourage him to keep going. She could feel his chest rise and fall beneath her touch and thought she could feel his rapid heartbeat as well.

He seemed to understand her meaning and slowly restarted his ministrations. He cupped his hand so it was his fingertips running along her back instead of his palm. It felt like a delicate back scratch that seemed to include no scratching at all. She felt flush as a small grinned spread across her face. She was in heaven, surely nothing in the world could feel more lovely than this. The hours of imagined caresses didn't compare to even the shortest moment of the real thing. His fingertips danced across the small of exposed back.

His stimulating touches sent her body into overdrive and she felt an ache as her growing arousal moistened her knickers. She copies his movements along his body, slowly moving from his chest to his abdomen. She could feel the hard lean muscles wrapped in his smooth skin and the definition she felt only lead to the ache intensifying. He let out a soft sigh and she licked her lips unconsciously. She shifted her legs in an attempt to alleviate her discomfort and without thinking rested her knee upon his leg.

His reaction startled her, he spread his hand open on the bare skin of her back and pulled her closer to him, slipping his own knee between her legs. Did he know what he was doing to her, that the presence of his muscled leg between her thighs didn't help her growing arousal. She imagined closing the final distance between them and grinding her center against him and she had to fight against her body's inclination to do just that.

The movement of pulling her closer had shifted her shirt on top of his hand so that when he began caressing her with his fingertips again he was no long restricted by the bunched hem. He began to slowly work his way up the bare skin of her back she gasped, her body arched at his touch, pressing her taught breasts against his chest. She felt his chest chuckle though he made no sound. She risked a glance at him and she could see him grin, satisfied with her reaction.

She felt emboldened by the look on his face and risked moving her hand to his arm. She had always loved his arms, she'd spent many nights fantasizing about what they would feel like wrapped tightly around her in an intimate lovers embrace. She gripped her hand around his bicep firmly and circled her thumb along the firm muscle.

He showed his appreciation for this move by letting out a low sigh. She trailed her hand along his arm slowly, she looked into his face and met his gaze. Neither of them said a word and it left her feeling exposed. He was looking at her like he could see into her soul. She shivered as his hand kneaded into the small of her back, his fingers edging painfully close along the top of her practical cotton panties.

In that moment she wished she was the sort of girl who slept in frilly lacy things. A sumptuous satin that might tempt his hand into delving lower onto the curve of her backside. She felt his hand trembling as it danced near the edge and his obvious nervousness at the simple act of touching her made her heart swell. She let her hand fall onto his back as she pulled herself closer still and began to match his movements as he fingered the small of her back. She felt his shiver at the new contact and the minor adjustment that it caused his body made her eyes widen in shock.

He could feel _him_, she could feel _it_. The hard mass was long against her inner thigh, just out of reach of her salivating center. Without thinking she leaned slightly into him. She was shocked at how it thrilled her to feel his obvious arousal pressed against her. She had never felt like this before, it felt powerful, feeling the evidence of the effect she had on him.

_'How is it we're embracing like this and he has still never kissed me?'_ She looked up at him and saw his tongue run along his lip. She wanted to capture him in her mouth, run her own tongue along his lips. Something stopped her though, she had made the decision a long time ago that Ron would have to kiss her first. She had a feeling that her resolution on this matter was one of the reasons things had never progressed between them. It seemed silly now and a large portion of her, the dripping aching portion wanted to forget the promise she'd made and just snog him then and there. But she knew it would mean so much more if he took that first step.

Ron had a tendency to let others take control of his life. She'd seen it numerous times, she guessed it had something to do with coming from such a large family, if he didn't do something despite it being his responsibility someone else would eventually make sure it got done. He rarely took any initiative. Harry had even gotten him his date to the Yule ball. He had to be forced into action most of the time, she doubted they would have ever danced at Bill and Fleur's wedding had Victor not appeared to propel him forward.

With their first kiss though, she needed to know she mean enough to him to do it himself. That she meant enough to him to take some responsibility for things between them. She pushed him so hard and in so many things but she couldn't push him into this. That didn't mean she wasn't willing to coax him along a little.

She ran her hand along what she knew to be his maroon pajama bottoms. She stopped when she reached the side seam and ran her hand along his hip, feeling the worn flannel along his hip. She hated that her arms weren't longer and when she reached the end of her reach she slowly drew her hand back up. She watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed. His eyes were closed and he was biting his lower lip in a way that she knew meant he was thinking.

Then he did what her mind was screaming at him to do. Matching her movements exactly he trailed his fingers along the top of her knickers until they hit the seam at the crest of her hipbone and began to move his fingertips softly along her hip. She watched as his eyes widened in surprise as he hit her bare thigh. She realized he hadn't been expecting that. The light was too faint to show the deep blush she knew was there. She smiled at him sheepishly, embarrassed a little at her bold invitation now that she could think it through but she couldn't bring herself to regret it. Not when his hand was trailing slowly down her thigh soliciting her body into a deeper ache then she could imagine possible.

His arms were much longer than hers and he was able to trail his hands all the way down to her knee, still hoisted onto his leg. At one point her hand had fallen from above his arm resting on his hip to below his arm resting on his stomach as his caress dislodged her hand. She ran her hand absentmindedly along the trail of hair leading into his tented pants.

As much as she enjoyed the feel of his fingertips drawing slow circles down her thigh, it was nothing at all to the feel of his flat palm sliding firmly up again. She closed her eyes and leaned her hips into him, throwing her head back slightly in the process. There was something possessive in the way he wrapped his hand around her and it took her breath away. She closed her eyes as passion filled her, visions of his ravishing hands grabbing hungrily at her whole body with the same confidence and strength filled her and she could feel her building climax. She let herself fall into the sensations of the moment.

***

Ron was far and away having the best moment of his short life. Better than winning the Quidditch cup his 5th and 6th years. Better than any stupid house cup. Hell, just touching Hermione was better then any of the times Lavender had gone down on him, and he'd certainly been a fan of that. This though, this was painful in it's tantalizing eroticism. Ron thought he would cum right then and there when he'd realized she wasn't wearing anything besides the soft knickers he'd been fingering.

That moment would be one of the ones flashing before his eyes before he died. He was sure she'd been inviting him to touch her like that, and her reaction to his hand simply trailing along the soft skin of her thigh was just mind blowing. She pushed herself into him, _him, it. _

When he realized she could feel _it_ he'd been horrified, ready to jump back into his own bed in absolute mortification. Her response was so immediate and surprised it he hadn't even time to react. She pulled herself into him, rubbing her inner thigh against his throbbing cock. It had felt bloody unbelievable and he had to fight not to ride her like a nimbus right them. So instead of fleeing he'd stayed and it had so far turned into the most thrilling night of his life.

His heart was pounding in his chest and he thought he might faint from the loss of blood to his brain. It was just so tantalizing. His hand rested on the hollow of her hip bone, his thumb caressed the hem of her knickers. He was wondering if he dare, there were so many possibilities to every move he made. She could smack him and shove him off her bed, she could throw him down on the bed and have her way with him. Hell, she could be falling asleep as he explored her body. For a small moment he liked that idea best because it meant the likelihood of him being shoved onto the floor was greatly decreased but then he realized if that were to happen it would mean she wasn't finding this nearly as exciting as he was and he decided the throwing him down on the bed and having her way with him was defiantly the best out come he could imagine..

He slowly decided it would be best to move his hand off her panties just to avoid further temptation. As much as she seemed to be enjoying it he didn't think she'd allow him to cup her arse with his hand or run his thumb inside her knickers like he was contemplating. His hand instead slip back under her shirt. He was nervous as he did so, sure that she'd smack his hand away at the boldness do so in such a purposeful manner. It had been an accident the first time but there was not mistaking these actions as accidental.

He held his breath as his hand moved up he side. He wasn't sure if he should go back to massaging her back since he was up here again or if it would be safe to venture toward the unexplored world of Hermione's stomach so he decided to try testing the waters by playing with her side just to see how she'd react. He place his hand gingerly onto the gentle curving of the dip of her waist and he could feel her smile into his chest. He rubbed circles along her stomach, testing how far she'd let him go and her only response seemed to be her own hand matching his movement on his own abdomen.

_'Brilliant'_ he thought and he closed his eyes just enjoying the sensation of being with her. He felt like he could die a happy man. He didn't care what else was out there right now he was holding the woman he loved, that was all he needed. He leaned his face downward and gently kissed the top of her head. She looked up at him and their eyes met once again and she smiled seductively at him.

_'What does that smile mean?'_ Does it mean if I kissed her right now she'd kiss me back? His stomach churned as what felt like hippogriffs danced inside of him. If he pressed his lips to her in that moment and she pushed him away he would loose this. The feel of her crushed against his body, the soft skin of her tummy beneath his thumb and the quick unsteady breaths her lips were releasing onto his chest. He wanted this moment too much and he didn't know if he was willing to risk it. If only she would just give him a clear sign of what she wanted, perhaps saying something like _'kiss me' _Yes,that would definitely make things easier.

With a sigh he decided he wasn't going to push it any further tonight. If this moment ever came again he was definitely do it. This time though, he would just hold her until morning and not risk her wrath by crossing any unforgivable lines.

***

Hermione was shocked when Ron withdrew his hand from inside her shirt and placed it carefully upon her back, no longer moving it in the circles he had done before. He'd kissed her hair and their eyes had met. She gave him the most encouraging smile she could manage, hoping he would finally make that move she'd been dying for since before she knew any longing. He wrapped his arms around her again, this time as if he actually was preparing to sleep and then kissed her forehead before tucking her beneath his chin.

He held her close still which was nice, but she didn't want nice. Not after having spent the last hour having him touch her in the most titillating way she hadn't even had the ability to imagine. She wanted him, her body was aching from how much she wanted him and from the thick hard erection she could still feel pressed against her she _knew_ he wanted that too.

She didn't understand what she had done wrong to make his stop. Why wasn't he still touching her like that? She snuggled into his chest a little tighter hoping it would take things back to the way they were before but he just gripped her tightly into him and held her.

After a few long seconds she decided being held in his arms was not so bad and she felt herself helpless against the pull of the sleep she'd been startled out of before.


End file.
